Edward came round lying on a wide bed, covered with a red velvet throw. For a moment his mind rebelled against consciousness, it had been too long since Edward had enjoyed sleep and his body clung to the feeling with regret. His eyes opened and he quickly scanned the room for threats. As far as he could see there were none. The room was clearly hewn from rock and probably underground; despite his body's own chill the room felt cold to him. The furniture although sparse was lavish. The bed he lay on was a four poster, hung about with the same red velvet beneath him. Tiny golden dragons were embroidered onto the fabric. The chair was upholstered in the same way and set in front of a small writing desk and there was a wash stand with a bowl and jug, no mirror. There was also no window. Only a door, of thick wood and with an opening covered by a lattice of iron bars. There was no handle on the inside. So, a prison then, he thought. Just then he heard a voice whispering.

'Oi, mate!' The voice seemed to be coming from outside the door. Edward crossed the room, it seemed that whoever had made it from the rock had not expected it to house tall guests, and bent down to peer through the barred opening. Through the bars he could see a young man of about twenty. He was bending to see through the door too and his hair was short and bleached a startling blonde. His face was sharp and he was obviously trying to attract Edward's attention without drawing any notice from anyone else who might be nearby. Guards, wondered Edward as he smiled across to the other man.

'Hello,' Edward's voice sounded remarkably calm under the circumstances. His companion seemed quite amused at this.

'All right?' he said chirpily, 'so, what you in for mate?' From somewhere about his person he found a cigarette and, noisily striking a match on the stone wall, lit it with some satisfaction.

'I really have no idea,' explained Edward, 'one moment I was at home and then... here.' He didn't' want to tell this man too much. He realised this was probably Dracula's doing and he didn't know who he could trust.

'Bloody hell,' his new friend nodded. Was he English? Edward found comfort in the fact even though this man's voice sounded much more...earthy than Harry's.

'Yeah,' agreed Edward. 'How did you get here?' The young man leant against the doorway.

'Well, long story, Cliff notes is I came here looking for Buffy, that's my bird,' he explained looking up at Edward and puffing on the cigarette before throwing it down and stubbing it out. 'Well, sort of my bird. Anyway, she's in Europe somewhere so I comes 'ere and next I know I'm in this stone box.' He punched the wall to demonstrate his frustration and then winced. 'Ow.'

'Who's Buffy?' Edward wanted to know as much as he could about where he was and who he was with, it would be useful to plan his escape. 'Is she...human?' had he revealed too much? Did the other young man know about vampires? Edward took an experimental sniff in the other cell's direction but he couldn't pick up any scent. It all smelt like blood down here, probably iron ore in the walls.

'Well pal, judging from your snow white tan I'm guessing you're of the fanged persuasion,' the man paused to judge Edward's reaction and when he got none he went on. 'So am I, now you mentions it.' He grinned, 'but yeah, Buffy's a human all right.' There was a slight growl to his voice which Edward understood completely. 'Anyway, you'll meet her later when she does her big rescue bit.' He ended confidently.

'How will she do that?' Edward frowned hoping he hadn't been too offensive.

'Oh, she does that sort of thing, you know.' The answer was evasive. 'What about you? Sweetheart on the other side?'

'Mmm.' Edward nodded.

'Worried about her are you?'

'Him, actually.'

'Oh right,' the other guy didn't miss a beat, 'does he know where you are?'

'No, but he'll be planning a rescue no doubt.' Edward smiled at the thought.

'Powerful is he?' the blonde studied his short nails.

'A wizard.' Edward thought there was no point hiding anymore, Dracula must know all this anyway.

'Right. Magics, know a few powerful witches myself. Well, one. 'He seemed to make up his mind. He stuck a skinny white hand as far through the bars as it would go. 'Spike, to my mates,' he offered, 'William the Bloody to my victims' he grinned. Edward clasped his hand briefly through the bars.

'Edward Cullen,' he smiled.

'Right, so while we're here waiting to be rescued by bloody powerful humans,' he grinned at Edward, 'might as well have a bit of a chat.'

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Edward wasn't sure how long they had been talking but now he seemed to know a lot about Spike and a lot about Buffy. It turned out that, along with being something called the Slayer that Edward vaguely remembered hearing about, Buffy didn't actually know where Spike was at all. He hadn't even told her he was coming to visit her. Spike seemed to have a lot of confidence in a young girl. Edward had outlined his experience in that area with Bella. Spike had nodded and agreed that women were 'mad as box of frogs' was exactly how Spike had put it. But they agreed on the fact that their human's having a touch of the supernatural was a plus.

'Especially in the bed department, if you know what I mean,' winked Spike. Edward nodded, obviously mortified at the conversation. Spike's guffaw of laughter had been raucous and robust.

'How did you become a vampire?' Edward asked eager to change the subject. Spike's story was a long one, full of powerful emotion but a couple of the smaller points took Edward by surprise.

'You mean you burn up in the sun?' he asked incredulously. Spike looked offended.

'Yeah, like toast. Don't you?' he added suspiciously. Edward shook his head. 'Hang on a minute, how does that bloody well work?' Spike was confused. So was Edward.

'My skin...glitters in the sun, that's why I don't go outside. All my family are the same. I've never met any vampires to whom the sun is fatal. I thought it was just myth.' Spike frowned in thought.

'You have these though don't you?' he asked shaking his head. The face that looked back at Edward was a frightening parody of the man Edward had just been sharing stories with for the last few hours. The brow was deeply furrowed and the whole shape of the nose was now distorted. More worrying still was Spike's teeth. He had two long, sharp looking fangs now. Edward's jaw dropped.

'No,' he replied hoarsely. 'Nothing like that. I... my teeth and... Er... face don't change at all when I...feed.' Spike shook his head briefly and his face went back to looking human, Edward was still astonished.

'You do drink blood right?' Spike sounded sarcastic. 'I mean, we've not got off on the wrong foot here have we? You're not in some role playing club pretending to be a vampire?' a scathing note entered his voice. Edward growled lightly in his throat and Spike's face brightened.' Now, that's more like it mate!' he crowed.

'Yes, I do drink blood and I have drunk the blood of humans but now I feed from animals. Whatever I can hunt.' Edward's tone was flat, his mind was racing.

'Me too,' agreed Spike, 'especially since I got my soul back. Slippery little buggers souls are...' he was about to continue when Edward interrupted him.

'You lost your soul?! When?' Spike looked annoyed.

'When I became a vampire obviously, that's when the demon enters your body and...' Edward held up a hand.

'Wait. A demon? I've never heard of this before. I think I still have my soul, that's why I don't kill humans.' His mind ran along its path of reasoning. 'How do crosses affect you? Holy Water?'

'Sting like a bastard is how they affect me, pal.' Spike winced slightly to demonstrate his point. 'You?'

'Nothing. I thought it was just a myth again, like the sunlight thing.' Spike gave a low whistle.

'Two different sorts of vampire. Bloody hell I didn't see that one coming.' Edward nodded.

'Maybe not just two Spike. How many of these cells do you think there are?' Spike glanced along the corridor.

'Seven or eight, I'd guess.' He shrugged, 'why?' Edward leant close to the bars and whispered.

'How many vampire stories do you know Spike? That you've always thought were just made up to make us more frightening to the humans? What about changing into bats? Mist? Controlling animals and storms.' This last thought stirred a memory. 'That's what Dracula did when Harry turned him down Spike! He sent a storm after us!' Edward's whisper became fiercer as his wrestled with what all this might mean. 'What if all those stories are true Spike? What if there are lots of different vampires and Dracula wants to learn about us all. Maybe even figure out how to have all of our strengths and none of our weaknesses?'

Spike rested his blonde head heavily against the bars.

'Jesus wept,' he whispered, 'Buffy's going to throw a fit.'